A Mysterious Man, the one with the sign
by Eines Zwei Drei
Summary: A mysterious boy comes to Hogwarts, and Harry and the boys are determined to make him feel welcome..


Harry lazily leaned his head on the cushion, the rapid jerking, made him feel sleepy and for the first time in a long time, safe. It had strangely enough been a fun summer, the last thing he had expected. He went back to Privet drive and everything was the same Voldemort hadn't come back, Cedric wasn't dead. Uncle Vernon was unbearable, Aunt Petunia was a bore and Dudley was fat, it was comforting to know that some things hadn't changed. But one thing had changed they paid no heed to Harry, they went away to the shops, or on a vacation, they just went away and left Harry to his own devices. They didn't care if he was there when they got back. Sirius sent frequent letters, full of concern, but nothing happened. Ron sent letters underlining the intermost workings of the ministry, nothing was happening. Hermoine sent one letter crooning she was in love, with doodles of Hermoine Krum in the margins, it nauseated him. Krum and Hermoine..  
  
The day after his birthday, he took off, and whether the Dursley's knew he was gone or not, he did not know, he didn't care. Percy was in Ireland, Charlie was in Romania, Fred and George were spending the summer in London, Arthur was away on 'ministry business' nothing serious Ron assured him, looking for teapots in the Isle of Man. The hustle and bustle of the Burrow had gone. Ginny, Ron, Harry and Bill remained. Ginny however frequently disappeared to her mates after giggling madly and blushing in Harry's direction. Ron, Harry and Bill had a great time it was as if age gaps had disappeared. They went to a quiditch game in Gainsborough and spent hours retelling adventures. Bill was a great story teller, Goblins, mysterious trolls, little creatures that turned evil in seconds. Before long summer was over, the purchased new books, and robes and headed for the train.  
  
All he could hear was heavy breathing. It was a dark, muggy, fog that kept him from seeing the other worshippers there, bright red eyes glowed through the darkness.  
  
"I am here master." He muttered.  
  
Hermoine arrived and had circled Harry twice before he recognized her. New hair cut, make up, tighter robes, she even shaked her ass when she walked! So that's what a summer full of lusty sex got you, damn if Harry knew.  
  
Ron, Harry, Seamus, Dean and Neville congregated onto on car, Hermoine had gone else where probably bragging to Pavarti and Lavender how 'good' Krum was.  
  
They retold their summer adventures embellishing details. A lot had changed.  
  
Neville was 6 feet tall, slender, and could walk without falling all over himself. Seamus was two steps from being an alcoholic, and what's more he was proud of it. Dean had been 'macking it up' with muggle girls all summer.  
  
What had Harry done? He hadn't changed.  
  
Seamus the drinking fiend soon started talking after the conversation lulled.  
  
"I brought plenty of the good stuff, for a little excitement." Getting drunk with the boys, normal teenage stuff, sounded like the best thing in the world to Harry at that moment.  
  
No train huffed and puffed it's way onto the platform. Hagrid was welcoming first years, Voldemort was not lurking in the shadows, their wasen't a dementor to be seen. Everything was as it should be, yet nothing would be the same.  
  
"Master.." He bowed, lightly brushing masters robes.  
  
"I must return. I must gain trust."  
  
The red eyes glarred at him, hatefully and he felt the dark mark on his arm burn.  
  
"Do what you must do."  
  
The first years, sat at the front of the hall, timid as always. Harry didn't know one of them. His eye caught a boy probably around his age, lurking at the entrance of the front hall, his trunk sat behind him and his robes held no ensign. The food arrived and Harry lost all interest in the boy. They staggered back to their dorms, and found their room now belonged to a group of annoying 2nd years. Colin Creevy's younger brother among them. They hiked the stars and found they had the tower room. Tall pointed ceilings, 5 windows, more room and 6 beds. Neville and Dean were delighted. They both had a horrible habit of piling all their shit on their beds, pushing it off to go to sleep, then screaming in pain when they stepped on it the next morning. Seamus was showing of his magnitudes of hard liquor, Dean was piling up pictures of pretty girls on his night table. Everything was just as it should be, when the door knocked.  
  
Dean chuckled. "A lady for me?"  
  
The boy who stood at the door, was the same who had stood in the entrance hall. He was lugging his trunk and a squirming purple turtle. His voice was shaky, and nervous.  
  
"'ith yers?"  
  
They all nodded.  
  
"Weill, ges i'em steying 'ere."  
  
They all nodded.  
  
"I'em T'mas."  
  
They all nodded and exchanged looks. Harry understood, Neville who was from Derehem, Seamus who was from Ireland, Dean who was from Eastern London, Oliver who was from Scotland, but he couldn't understand a word Thomas was saying. He didn't sound like he was from any of the British isle, but at the same time it was quite obvious that he was.  
  
Thomas stood in the door frozen, Ron finally plucked up the courage to say what they had all been thinking.  
  
"Where ya from?"  
  
Thomas suddenly clued in.  
  
"A', I ce, 'eved al oever Englin, wa'es, Eire, Scetlind, ges I piked upe an acc'nt al ofe me own. Me Mum's in de minstree, meves 'round lot."  
  
"How come you never came to school before?" Harry asked.  
  
"A', wiel 'ame 'ere fist yer. Trilviled 'round fer a yer, 'ent to shool up 'orth, 'ung oit in Eire, lierned spiels and pations frem a grope of lepercauns. Me Mum figures, al de shite geing on, beste plice fer me ta be."  
  
They let it all soak in for a few minutes, waited for the words to make sense.  
  
"I don't remeber you, first year." Neville remarked.  
  
" yer befere ya, I reckon, wes in Hefflepeff, strenge enouf. Dumbidore figuired I diser'ved a 'ew serting, ges tings chan'ed in six yers."  
  
"Aye, guess it did." Seamus replied cordially enough. Thomas was nice, friendly enough.  
  
"I figuire it mest bey w'ird, me beying 'ere and al, ya 'ere fer 5 yers an' I ceme 'long, fecking up yer rotine."  
  
"Well Thomas as you will soon find out, nothing is routine around here. You came for the best year. Everything's gonna be different Seamus is going to do his best to turn us irish, neville's going to grow us some pot--"  
  
'I'm going to do what?!"  
  
"Just thought you doing good in herbology and all, i'm going line up some ladies and Harry is going to put us all on the quiditch team. You'll fit right in." Dean conveyed.  
  
"Quiditch!" Thomas said.  
  
"And women!" Dean replied.  
  
"Quiditch!"  
  
"And women!"  
  
"Quiditch and Women!" Ron finally cut in.  
  
"I den't ce 'ow the t'o are reletied."  
  
"Oh, ho! Much to learn young grasshopper! Flying high, broom, shiny uniforms that make you look damn good! It gets the ladies rolling in!"  
  
Seamus snorted, "Like Potter would know!"  
  
"Shut-up, virgin!" Ron retorted.  
  
"'arry Poffer? I s'oulda kneen!" Harry blushed damned Harry Potterness coming and biting him in the ass again.  
  
"Harry James Potter, That's me!" Harry held out his hand, Thomas shook it.  
  
"T'mas Arin Braughten. I ge bey Tomas dough."  
  
"Tomas, cool. You may call me Ron. Ron Weasley, by the time my Mom got to me, she had no names left for middle names."  
  
Seamus raised the botle he currently had in his hand: "Cheers mate, I'm Seamus."  
  
"Dean Thomas." Dean pointed to himself.  
  
"Neville."  
  
"We know you, you know us, what could go so wrong?" Harry asked.  
  
"Well Neville could grow us some pot, we could open a couple bottles, mack it up with some hot 7th year ladies and Snape could walk in!"  
  
They all cat called.  
  
"T'at deat eter s'ill werks 'ere?"  
  
"Miserably."  
  
"Pitifully."  
  
"Unfourtantly."  
  
"Horribly."  
  
"Awfully."  
  
"I tek it, i'em net de inly o'e ew 'ates da basterd."  
  
"Join the club, we meet on thursdays." Neville spoke out. What had happened to that boy? So grown up, speaking out..So proud.  
  
Tomas surveyed his surroundings.  
  
"So, 'e get da dreem t'wer eh?"  
  
They all gave him questionable glances.  
  
"Merlin?" He asked.  
  
"Merlin? Ain't nothing but an old crackpot, never did any real magic!" Seamus disputed.  
  
"Sounds pretty cool to me." Neville replied.  
  
Conversation was winding down, they were weighed down with too much food, a long train ride, an early morning and the early morning pleasure of having an early Snape class.  
  
Ron and Dean were already in bed, Neville was starring out the window marveling at the fact that they're were window boxes. Seamus was sitting on the floor? Harry was puttering around looking for his scales which he certainly didn't want to lose. Tomas was dragging in his trunk and reached up, to pull away his curtains. Time stopped, Harry's heart raced, he stopped breathing. Screw the scales, he pulled the curtains and tried to breathe. Little sleep came that night, 5 feet from his bed. 5 from his bed resided a death eater. 


End file.
